


Pollyanna

by Castiolare



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Chronoa Day 2021, F/M, Light Angst, SDBH, Super Dragon Ball Heroes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29385741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiolare/pseuds/Castiolare
Summary: Chronoa’s energy is infectious. The thought of losing her hurts Zamasu more than he’d care to admit.For Chronoa Day 2021.
Relationships: Supreme Kai of Time | Chronoa/Zamasu (Dragon Ball)





	Pollyanna

**Author's Note:**

> Chronoa/Zamasu is n e a t
> 
> Time Unleashed form >>>>>>>>>>>> short stack loli Chronoa
> 
> Created: February 1, 2021  
> Finished: February 11, 2021

* * *

Purgatory. That’s what the Time Nest was to Zamasu. Constantly met by mortals of all kinds, working to restore time’s faults, and that insufferable half-Saiyan with his vain wishes of hope for humanity as a whole… Everyday was suffering.

Every day, every person who came to see Chronoa, every single one was greeted with that overly friendly smile of hers. A motherly energy radiated off of her, welcoming any and all into the Time Nest. He hated every second of it - that feeling of being wanted here by the other. He loathed her attitude, able to keep such a smile on her features in the presence of such filth.

He **_despised_** Chronoa, for working alongside mortals as though they deserved a place beside divinity.

She constantly attempted to strike a conversation with the lime-skinned deity in the quiet hours of the day. Zamasu himself had settled by the pond, a circle of musty tomes surrounding him like a protective barrier from the rest of the world, besides her, who constantly tried to enter his life.

Every time, however, Zamasu would ignore any line of questioning, any attempt of discussion, without looking up from his books, and only occasionally stopping to take a long sip of his tea.

The constant reappearance of Trunks had certainly made him less willing to confide (let alone trust Chronoa) as well. There was no erasing that history, and the lavender-haired male would always have a hand on the hilt of his sheathed blade, as if to warn Zamasu for trying anything.

His plans had failed. Zeno had stuck him with Chronoa, trapped in the Time Nest to repent for his crimes. Dozens of mortals with smiling faces, and an overly positive Kaioshin to keep him company outside of his books. What was there _to_ try?

There was no redemption for any of them, not even for the Supreme Kai of Time. No sense wasting his breath. Such a disappointment, that she couldn’t see what he saw.

* * *

As days turn to weeks, then to months, he hardly realises how much time has passed outside of the bubble that is the Time Nest. He’d lost track of the number of faces coming in and out of the pearly gates leading to a city he’d only heard of, but the constant flow of strangers soon came to a halt. The only regular to stop by would be Trunks, greeting Tokitoki, before disappearing deeper into the area.

He’d hardly noticed how cold it had gotten; how the time had bled, and he’d grown so accustomed to the sound of Chronoa’s voice throughout the otherwise empty sanctum. The topaz orbs greeting him warmly, along with her soft smile. Finding any number of things to do, regardless of how menial they may be.

For once, in what felt like an eternity, his head lifts from his book to glance to the white-washed dome in the centre of the Time Nest. Where every Time Patroller went to receive their orders from Chronoa, from what he could glean; in all honesty, he hadn’t paid much mind to it all.

Was it winter already? No, the weather never seemed to change here, it was almost always a constant mild temperature. Like time itself had stopped, and been encapsulated into one singular space. So why did he feel so cold?

Draining his cup of tea, Zamasu gets to his feet, and steps out of the protective ring of books around him. He’d finished them all a while back now, but hadn’t wanted to make any show of needing something else to fill his time, eventually reading them backwards.

Tokitoki coos softly from his perch above, a sign of greeting and acknowledgement. The owl never bothered Zamasu, but as of late, never flew much either. He watches the creature silently, before dusting himself off, and following the cobble path to the towering tree in the centre of his prison.

Still, the cold seeps through his body like he’s been drenched in icy water. His feet feel heavy, but he continues his march onward, following the sound of a pair of voices.

“… What if they come here?” Trunks, as expected. The only visitor nowadays.

“Then we’ll just have to keep them from getting here.” Chronoa’s voice, but with a much resolute, determined tone. Different to the jolly tone she adopted in everyone else’s presence. “Protecting Tokitoki is our highest priority.”

“I understand that, but… Why you?”

Zamasu steps into the dome, only Trunks looking to their visitor, with the same hostility as when they’d first crossed eyes in this timeline. Still, the Kaioshin didn’t need clarification for what they were talking about. Based on the scrolls scattered around them, it was likely trouble with the Demon Realm. She had ranted about the headaches they caused on numerous occasions, and he too found them to be a pest.

And based on what he’d heard so far, it sounded like she intended to be bait for them. But bait for what? What could she hope to do?

“Because I won’t give Tokitoki up for anything, Trunks. I’m replaceable, all Kai’s are. But Tokitoki isn’t. If he can take me hostage, then he’ll expect you to trade Tokitoki for my life. Whatever happens, you can’t allow that.”

The green-skinned Kai moves past the pair to examine their scrolls, ignoring Trunks’ sounds of protests whilst he battled over this internal predicament. In the end, he ends up pulling at his hair, realising the futility of his situation.

**_“Pathetic.”_ **

Zamasu’s voice echoes throughout the chamber, as he meets their gaze. Despite how little he knew about the situation, it sounded like Chronoa was going to be a hostage or something for the filth that was the Demons, and Trunks couldn’t do a thing about it. While his helplessness was ideal, entrusting the demons with a Kaioshin was pathetic to him.

“Do you really expect something so imbecilic will work, Chronoa? That it shall all go according to your plan? Loathe as I am to give credit to the demon realm, they are not nearly as moronic as mortal trash.”

Although Trunks is seething, the other Kai has the faintest signs of a smile on her features, as if she’d been expecting Zamasu’s arrival, his condemnation of her plan, regardless of how much he knew. That smile made him feel a little warmer, thawing him out.

“You are not fully aware of the situation, Zamasu. The Demon Realm are planning to resurrect their leader, Mechikabura, and shut out light as we know it. That includes the Kai’s, mortals, and Destroyers. But if they’re going to do such a thing, they need me out of the picture. Myself and Tokitoki, to reform timelines to suit their images.”

“And you think handing them one of the pieces is going to resolve in some form of peace? Tell me you are not so foolish as to believe that shall work! Those worms will contaminate your very being to suit their wicked ideals! You’ll be as useless to anyone as a mortal is when they’re alive!”

“So, what do **_you_** suggest?” The words roll off her tongue, finger pressed against his chest, and that gentle smile spread upon her features. The lack of space makes his cheeks turn pink (at least, that’s what he writes it off as), while Trunks stands and watches in awe and confusion.

Why? Why did he feel so warm now? Seeing that smile, that fearless glimmer in the Kai’s eyes before him… That unwavering hope and desire for peace and cooperation with mortals… He hated it, but that look was so gentle and kind. Why?!

“Train me.” He responds simply, grabbing onto her shoulders firmly. “While I refuse to work alongside such a worthless swordsman or any of your other pawns, I cannot allow a Kaioshin to face that vermin on their own. Their erasure means as much to me as the extinction of mortals.”

“I… D-Did you…” Trunks finally chimes in, although still keeping his distance from them. “Did you… plan this, Supreme Kai of Time?” Having Zamasu allied with them for the sake of taking down the demons, even if he had no pleasure siding with Trunks and the Time Patrol.

She grins back at Trunks, before moving away from Zamasu, striking a pose. “Alright, Zamasu! Your Super-Awesome-Fun Time Patrol Training starts now!”

Both males feel sweat bead at the back of their foreheads for such a convoluted name, but considering they’d been roped into this - one still hesitant to allow this, and the other unwilling to allow Chronoa’s foolhardy plan occur, they had no real say in the matter.

* * *

Preparation for the strike against the Demon Army is quick, it almost feels like a blur to the former apprentice. It seems like only yesterday that he’d been sitting alone, encircled by his books whilst the Time Nest buzzed with activity. It did, yet again, but now with him training under Chronoa herself to regain his strength. While his ki abilities remained limited, he still possessed incredible regenerative aspects and a skilled fighting repertoire under his belt. Any and all would help in the upcoming battle.

It’s quite the surprise, coming across Goku, Vegeta and Gohan (amongst others whom he’d not properly met, being Goten and Pan) in their travels through the Demon Realm, along with some old faces that appeared to be familiar to the Time Patrol. None he would care to associate with, of course. The aid of Demigra and his rag-tag band of magicians were on similar terms in working with them as Zamasu was.

He just didn’t want the Demon Realm to have their way. That was his logic for siding with them. That’s what he told everyone, even himself. Not that the time he’d spent with Chronoa had eased him out of his shell ever so slightly. That her passion and determination to protect time, and mortals as a whole, was as admirable as his desire for divine justice and extinction of mortals.

He refused to admit that he was slowly turning weak for the other Kai… There was no way he could be harbouring such emotions! She worked with mortal filth, treated them as equals! She was a stepping stone of the gods, a tool they used! She couldn’t see the truth as he had.

Zamasu shakes such thoughts free, cutting down another of the useless soldiers coming to delay the Time Patrol, who seek to cancel Mechikabura’s wish for his restored youth. He charges through the filth surrounding them, quick to catch up to Chronoa, who faces off before the newly powered Demon King.

“This… better work…” He seethes, focussing what energy he can manifest into weaving an illusion. Two Chronoa’s, himself serving as a distraction. If he could stop Mechikabura, trick him for a brief amount of time whilst Chronoa charges her strength to move the other out of this realm, then they’d win.

While there certainly could be better plans, it was better than Chronoa diving headfirst and letting herself be taken by the demon. As such, Zamasu charges headfirst, ready to attack the former Kaioshin, only for any and all attempts of attack to be blocked. Not a scratch, not even a flinch! Not that he’s surprised, but his attention seems hardly on him as the decoy, or on Chronoa himself. Was he planning to bring this whole realm crashing down or something?

His gaze shifts to the Kai of Time, who remains idle amidst the unwinding conflict surrounding them all. Eyes shut, ki flowing through her, light glowing… The sight is breathtaking, but right now, dealing with Mechikabura takes first priority.

“Do it now!” He yells out, tackling Mechikabura to the ground with impressive strength, when prior, he didn’t even react. The plan was simple - Zamasu would live on forever, even if in an alternate time with the Demon King. Did that matter in retrospect? Not to him. An existence without knowing the failures that was mortals was ideal, really.

His illusion fades, seeping into energy to suppress Mechikabura as best as possible. He was already drained; the limits Zeno had put on his body in terms of ki capabilities made him lesser than a Saiyan. He wouldn’t be able to hold out for long.

In the blink of an eye, their surroundings drain of colour. An empty space, the sound of a ticking clock echoing in his ears. Zamasu’s movements feel lethargic, as if he’s moving through quicksand. It’s only him, Mechikabura, and Chronoa in this strange space, and time appears to flow normally for her.

“We only have… a minute or two… Zamasu…” She says with a pant, strutting up to the Kaioshin. Chronoa kneels before him, gently cupping his cheek. Energy flows through him, his ki restored by her touch, and warmth pumping through his veins like adrenaline when she smiles at him.

“Promise me… You’ll take care… of Tokitoki… and the Time Nest… for me… okay?”

His eyes widen, and his throat turns dry. What did she mean? She made it sound like… No, she was planning to sacrifice herself all along?!

“C…h…r…o…n…o…a…!” His voice comes out as a croak in this distorted space, echoing endlessly, before disappearing as her warm lips press against his. She pushes him off of Mechikabura, who’s turning his head to see the sight unfolding, and meets them with a malicious grin.

“I… love you… Zamasu. Good…bye…”

**_“Chronoa—!”_ **

Light surrounds her and Mechikabura, blinding the Kaioshinfor what feels like an eternity. When finally he can see, the cold returns ten-fold, and his fists ball up. Back in the Time Nest, with the members of the Time Patrol scattered around him.

As the situation is discussed and information shared, Zamasu separates from the group who begin to plan their rescue of the Supreme Kai of Time. How… How could he let that happen? Not only had she made a fool of him, she’d gone and abandoned the Time Nest! Stuck true to her idiotic plan, despite all the risks!

He would’ve been bellowing with laughter at her ignorance, that she deserved this retribution, but not a sound could escape him. All that did escape, was tears. He was crying. Fists bashing against the Earth, a soundless scream resonating through the Time Nest.

He hadn’t been strong enough! He couldn’t stop her, or Mechikabura! She’d done nothing but let herself be taken hostage by the Demons! That unsightly trash of which Zeno allowed, of which spawned the darkness that corrupted many mortal hearts! She was pure, certainly, but none could fight the darkness, least of all her! And he couldn’t protect her from that!

The cold sinks into his body like icicles digging under his skin. The weight, the realisation of his loss, of his uselessness to protect her. And the fact that he’d changed, that long before the training, he’d felt this same chill when her presence became less and less. He couldn’t picture her smile. It didn’t hold that same warmth. And that kiss… The truth behind it was clear as day, it wasn’t some attempt to deceive. It was an honest confession on her part, as a final farewell.

— No. It wouldn’t be a final farewell. She was alive. She had to be.

Was it due to him rejecting his inner feelings for her? That he both refused to believe she was gone, and that her kiss had incited emotions he hadn’t thought he had? Or was that optimism of hers getting to him, tainting his realistic views?

It mattered not. The Kaioshin wouldn’t despair any longer for her. He would do something. He would ensure her safety, or die trying. And he would bring down the Demon Realm for extinguishing the beacon of hope that was Chronoa, from his sights. A vow he made, as intent on fulfilling this as he was to erase all of mortality.


End file.
